A Blizzard in a Touch
by NoTeaForYou
Summary: After the fall of the Soviet Union, Ukraine hasn't been able to push Russia from her mind. He haunts her dreams, clouds her thoughts, and obscures her conscious. When she decides to try and patch things up with him behind her boss's back, she finds that Russia has had problems of his own that only she can fix. But will she go through with such a task? Or will she run once more?


**Tea:** Thank you for deciding to read this fanfiction. This is a Russia x Ukraine fanfiction but I'm not too sure how far I'm going to be taking this in terms of relationship progression, since I usually do not go for incest pairings, however I had this idea for some reason and thought it would be cute to write. I envision this being more of a fluff fic, but I feel like this could easily turn R-18. Knowing me, it probably will be, and if it eventually does, I'll specify which chapters are to be rated M. Thank you, and please review if you read. Enjoy!

_****Read this first:**** _I will be using human names in the first chapter. The pronunciations of the names seem to be widely mispronounced in the fandom, and I've looked them up just to be sure that I wasn't pronouncing them wrong either. Russia's human name is Ivan (or sometimes Vanya) Braginsky, not Braginski like some spell it, because the –ski suffix suggests a Polish background and Russia is obviously not of Polish decent. As for his first name it is not pronounced _EYE-VAN_ (a common false impression), but _EE-VAHN_. I myself didn't know this until I dug around a bit. Belarus' name is Natalia Arlovskaya. As for Ukraine, she was never given an official name by Himaruya, but he suggested several that he liked. I've chosen to go against the fan name given to her to use one from the official list of suggestions, which is the name Irina. Once again, their human names will mainly be used in the first chapter. Thank you for listening to my rant. I really appreciate the patients!

* * *

Irina ran her fingers through Ivan's silky hair as he huddled close to her chest. It was absolutely frigid and the small fire didn't do much to warm them from the steadily falling snow accumulating in the tall pines of the large evergreen forest. It was a sad attempt at comfort, of normality in an otherwise oppressed countryside, but still the moral of the family remained decidedly low. The weather didn't help much; a thick sheet of never ending snow clouds hid the starry night sky from view, dropping the temperature to a bone chilling depression. A few feet away, Natalia sat unblinking as she stared earnestly into the small flame struggling to stay alive amongst the small twigs and pine needles before them. Irina had always wondered what she saw in the beautiful orange color; maybe it was a paradise? A faraway wonderland where the winters were warm, and there was always food and water available whenever you needed it. Natalia brushed the tiny flakes of snow from her tattered monochrome coat before moving closer to the ember, reaching out with chapped hands to touch the dancing creature as she mumbled to herself in a fascinated manner.

Irina frowned at her. "Be careful. Don't burn yourself." She warned.

Instantly, Natalia snapped her shadowy gaze towards her elder sister, glaring blankly from behind her long blonde locks before leaning back to a safe distance from the fire. She looked away, watching an unseen force from among the dark, profound tree-line that surrounded the little clearing. Irina sighed to herself and continued to toy with Ivan's hair. Caring for such a young family was a pain sometimes. One of her siblings was always in some sort of trouble…or causing it.

"Big sister?" Ivan mumbled from below her, clutching a bit at her thin outer layer.

Irina looked down at him. "Yes?" She responded tenderly, with an equally calming gaze.

Ivan opened his mouth to respond but coughed and pressed himself closer, burying his round face into her chest as he shivered. Irina watched him as he struggled to remain comfortable, shifting awkwardly from position to position. She swallowed and pulled the lengthy scarf up over his nose before wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. What she found didn't surprise her, but only instilled a deeper feeling of anxiety in the pit of her empty stomach. Ivan had lost more weight. Unfortunately, Irina was well aware of his deterioration but knew there was nothing she could do to help her brother from falling into a worsening depression.

After the movement of the Mongols into the territory and their destruction of many of Ivan's Novgorod settlements, he had become prone to isolating himself, only returning to his family when his small body cried for warmth. Numerous times had Irina lost track of his whereabouts, often wondering if he had been taken away from her by a strange onlooker, or if he had fallen into the icy claws of General Winter and buried unmoving in the blizzard. She swallowed. As far as she knew, Ivan was still unsure of his status as a territory and not as a human. Because of this, he often asked why he became ill so easily, and Irina would always compel herself to lie and reassure him that he merely had a weak immune system. She hated lying to him, but it was necessary. Without the presence of such a falsehood, Irina was sure that Ivan wouldn't know how to handle himself. He was too young for her to throw him into such a responsibility as running such an extensive collection of people. It was unfair for a child to bear such a thing.

Natalia peeled her eyes from the shadows amongst the pine trunks and turned to study her older brother, crawling towards him and leaving a small path behind her in the snow bank.

"Is big brother sick again?" She mumbled up to her sister, who stroked the feverish side of Ivan's face lightly with her palm.

Irina hesitated before nodding slowly. "I'm afraid so." She said softly.

Suddenly, an uncharacteristic look of sheer antagonism flooded over Natalia's soft features, contorting her childlike face into a mess of emotion. She reached out and tugged on Ivan's sleeve in a needy way, as though he was depriving her of the love and approval she so desperately craved from him.

"No!" Natalia pouted. "Stop being sick! Stop it!"

Ivan turned to face her with a feeble smile. "It's ok." He reassured in a hoarse voice. "I'll be fine after a while, so don't worry."

Natalia continued to furiously claw at his coat. "No! _No!_" She slammed her hands down hard on the ground, sending a shower of snow in either direction. "I don't want a while! I want you to stop now, Ivan!"

"Natalia, don't yell like that." Irina pleaded, beginning to become frustrated. Sure, her sister was still too young to understand why things happened the way that they did, but her constant mood swings added a whole new weight of stress to Irina's already burdened shoulders. She reached out and removed her sister's razor-sharp nails from Ivan's coat in fear that she would tear the previously tattered sleeves, and opened her free arm before scooping up the squirming Natalia and holding her close to keep her warm. Natalia wasn't amused. She struggled under Irina's surprisingly firm hold, trying to wiggle her under her arm and out into the knife-like wind.

Irina blew Natalia's hair from her face with a gentle gust from her rosy lips. "Shh~" She cooed, willing the young girl to calm herself. "Ivan can't help being sick. I've told you that." She explained gently.

Natalia stopped squirming and blinked. "Oh." She stated simply.

Irina chuckled a bit. Her innocence was reassuring. It proved that she had yet to be corrupted by the will of man, but it was only a matter of time before she figured out that everyone survived for the sole purpose of keeping themselves alive. Irina patted Natalia on the back and laid the three of them back against the rough log behind their backs. Even though the clouds obscured the sky, she could tell that it was getting late.

"Why don't you two try and get some sleep?" Irina suggested with a tired yawn. "We're going to one of the villages tomorrow for food, so you need to be rested up."  
Natalia didn't respond. She had almost instantly nodded off as soon as Irina had leaned back, her chubby face pressed into her sister's arm as she breathed softly.  
Ivan rubbed his hands together to warm his frozen fingers. "I won't be able to sleep."

Irina blinked and took her brother's hands in hers. "Why not?"

Ivan shrugged and continued to stare up at the sky, watching as the fat snowflakes waltz with one another through the night air. "I have been thinking about some things." He began, pausing to stifle another cough.

"About what?"

"About the other people who live here."

Irina raised an eyebrow. "What about the other people? Have they done something wrong?" She asked slowly.

Ivan shook his head and hesitated, unsure of how to carry on and voice his concerns. "They're different…Than we are." He treaded carefully, scared of how his sister would react.

"How? We're people just like them." Irina replied quickly, a small nervous quake shaking her voice. "There's nothing wrong with them. We're just like them." She repeated apprehensively.

Irina felt Ivan tense beneath her arm. He stared down at his lap in disappointment, toying with the soft animal skin of Irina's gloves. The silence about him was eerie and otherworldly, and it made Irina's hair stand on the back of her neck. After a long while, he looked up at her and narrowed his eyes in dissatisfaction.

"Why do you lie to me?" He grumbled, shoving her arm away from him and sitting to face her. "I _know_ we're not like them! Do you think I can't see it? We never have been but you keep saying we are!"

Natalia whimpered in her sleep, shifting slightly and curling herself up in a tight ball and tucking her knees to her chin. Ivan watched her a moment, fearful that his outburst may have woken her, before continuing in an angry hiss of a whisper.

"I don't know what it is, but I know we're not the same." He tightened his jaw when Irina looked uncomfortably to her lap. "You tell me things all the time. You say that I can't play with the other children. I can't go into the town to work for clothing like you do." He paused and thought a moment. "Some of the other children that live around the forest act strange too. There's a boy with white hair that the villagers and I always run into when we go hunting and it's like he's a general or something. He has a lot of other people following him around who call him "sir." He's not very nice and when he sees me he always wants to attack me to take my land. I don't own land though, so I didn't know what he was talking about. I told him over and over but he ran across Lake Peipus and cracked the ice that we were crossing. When I drug him out, I got really mad and choked him, but he got away and told me that he would claim my land someday…" He trailed off. "Is there something wrong with me?"

Irina felt a pang of sorrow hit her strait through the chest. She looked to the side and took a deep breath before slowly motioning Ivan back to where she sat. Ivan crawled heavily through the snow to his original spot at his sister's hip and waited for her to talk. Her face was blank of expression as she listened to the gentle rustle of the wind through the pines, and her lips had stretched into a thin, wiry, slit across her pale features.

"The truth is hard to explain." She blinked slowly and closed her eyes, drawing in another shaky lungful of air.

Ivan cocked his head in confusion. "What is it? Am I not allowed to know?"

Irina gradually re opened her eyes and frowned. She knew that eventually she would have to tell her brother who he really was, and the thought truly terrified her. What if upon hearing his true origin, he left her to live alone without her and Natalia? What if Natalia decided upon the same fate? Irina felt hot tears sting at her eyes, blinding her momentarily. She sniffed and blinked them away, allowing them to roll down her cheeks and drop gracefully to her coat, leaving small dark patches to dot the fabric. She clutched at the side of her face, squeezing slightly as her body fell into a gentle, even, sob. To be alone in a world so cold with no one to hold, no one to tell her that things would get better would drive her into a winding feeling of insanity. Her sanity was already strained as it was with the winter famine and fight for territory, and the pressure of losing the people she held so dearly only pushed her deeper into her own maddening realm of insecurity.

Ivan seemed confused at her sudden flood of emotion. He pushed Irina's fingers gently from her face and etched his violet gaze into her blue. "Irina, what's wrong? Did I say something bad?" He asked in a frantic whisper.

Irina willed the quiver in her lip to calm. "No, you've done nothing…Do you…_Really_ want the truth?" When Ivan blinked and nodded, she licked her lips and continued. "Look around you, Ivan." He did as he was told, though he didn't quite see what Irina was getting at. "What do you see in the countryside?"

Ivan seemed puzzled as he slowly scanned the tree line. "A lot of big trees…And a lot of snow…" He looked back to his sister for a definitive answer.

Irina sighed but remained patient. "What else about this place makes it special?" She pushed, hoping he would gradually understand on his own.

"It is cold." Ivan pointed out. "And no one really likes each other here." He scrunched up his face. "There isn't anything special, Irina. Why can't you just tell me what the truth is? This place doesn't have anything to do with it."

Irina wiped her eyes on the back of one of her gloves. "It has everything to do with it, Ivan." She whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder. She thought a moment, trying to find a different approach. Finally, an idea struck her. "Ivan, do you remember where you were born?"

Ivan smiled and opened his mouth to give a quick response but froze. His eyes slowly fell to the snow below, and his warm grin faded into a look of utter perplexity. He blinked and thought long to himself. "I…I remember something different."

Irina held her breath a moment at the sight of her brother beginning to piece the tough situation together. "What is it?"

"All I remember is waking up in the snow," Ivan looked back to the large bushy trees, "somewhere in here. I was alone…And I remember you coming up to me and asking me who I was…" Suddenly he stopped short. His eyes widened and his gaze turned cold. "It was the same with Natalia. We found her in the snow and you told her that she was our sister…But…Where did we come from?"

Irina couldn't help but let another hot tear streak hurriedly down her chapped face. "Ivan, forgive me, please!" She pleaded, clasping a frigid hand over her mouth and taking in a sharp breath as she sobbed. "You, and I, and Natalia were all…We're not like the rest of the world." She cried.

Ivan's shoulders slumped in disbelief. "What are we then?" He mumbled.

Irina continued to cry, her body shaking ferociously under the force of her powerful anguish. "With the birth of a new country there is also the birth of a special person. A person commanded by the world to rule and grow with the land they represent." She confessed. She flung her arms wide. "All of this, Ivan, this is you. All of this land around us…All of it is _you_." She jabbed him in the chest.

Ivan narrowed his eyes in skepticism. "It's not nice to joke with me."

Irina felt herself slipping forward feebly. "I'm not lying to you!" She wailed. "Please, listen to me! Remember all of those children from the village who went missing all those years ago?"

"I remember…" Ivan nodded slowly.

Irina squeezed her eyes shut. "They didn't actually go missing! I told you that so that you wouldn't notice how much they had aged. They're the village elders now! They were children nearly seventy years ago, Ivan. You don't age with them; you age with your country!"

Ivan gasped and pushed away from his older sister, scrambling away from her and landing awkwardly in the snow. "Don't say things like that!" He stuttered helplessly. "That didn't happen! I would have noticed such a long time." He pushed himself up and stood to face her, clenching his fists angrily at Irina's words.

"For a country, it's not a long time." Irina sobbed. "You wouldn't have noticed because such a time frame is short in our lives. I and Natalia are the same, Ivan." She shuddered talking about the thought. "We're…not human."

Ivan shook his head wildly and spun around messily, his scarf flying up and wrapping itself around his face. He batted it away furiously and ran his fingers uncontrollably through his wind whipped hair. When he turned to face her Irina's heart dropped and an unrestrained wave of terror flooded over her. She stumbled backwards frantically when Ivan stalked towards her, a dark shadow obscuring his once youthful face.

"It's bad to lie." He growled, pulling a long knife from his boot.

Irina's eyes widened as she screamed. The whole clearing shook brutally as though the earth was crumbling around them. She turned and ran, panting with fear as the colossal trees curved around her, scooping her up and holding her in place. She thrashed wildly as the branches sliced at her face, leaving long, thin cuts over her flushed cheeks. Ivan grinned evilly at her from where the pines held her firmly locked in place.

"Don't kick, Ukraine. It won't hurt much." He chuckled, his voice deepening to a supernatural moan.

Ukraine shook her head vehemently as she screamed for someone to save her from the imminent gory fate. "How do you know my name?!" She wailed. "You don't know that yet! Please, don't hurt me Ivan! You're not like this!"

"Ivan? No. My name is Russia now." He cocked back and laughed sadistically to the heavens before bringing his knife down hard on Ukraine's chest.

Ukraine screamed when her eyes snapped open. Her entire body was in a scorching sweat as she stared up at the creamy ceiling of her estate. She blinked and shakily pushed herself up in her petite bed, pushing the thick blankets from her body as she panted profoundly. Pale daylight peeked through her monochrome floral curtains that covered the wide window across the room, leaving a sliver of golden light on the cheap wood floor. Ukraine blinked and fell back onto her pillow, brushing her sweat heavy bangs from her eyes. What a nightmare… Ever since the collapse of the Soviet Union, every dream that she had at night would quickly dissolve into a nightmarish garble that ended in her own brother murdering her, each in a different, more violent way. It wasn't Russia's fault, but the change in his demeanor she had witnessed during the rise of the Union had scarred her mentally. He had always been a bit off in terms of his mental stability, but he had become increasingly cold and distant. Ukraine sighed and rubbed at her eyes with her fingers. Why did it have to be this way?

A soft knock sounded at her door, and she sighed.

"Come in." Ukraine spoke softly in a horse voice.

The door cracked a bit, and a young man tentatively poked his head through. He was fairly tall, what could be seen of him, with dark strait locks and a chunky pair of black glasses perched on his long nose. His mouth was thin and his light eyes weary from anxiety, but when he spoke his tone was stable and kind.

"Miss Ukraine, may I come in? I heard you screaming." He said in disbelief.

Ukraine didn't look up. "I don't mind…" She mumbled from her hands.

The man gave a hasty nod and moved through the door, shutting it softly with a click behind him. He was reasonably well dressed; a straightforward, long sleeved, work shirt tucked into his loose-fitting brown trousers held up with a fat black belt with a tarnished silver buckle. His shoes were caked with dry mud he had accumulated from the outdoors, and he was careful not to shake any loose on the freshly swept floor as he crossed to Ukraine's bed.

"Miss, is everything alright?" He prodded, straitening the small alarm clock that sat perched on the cherry stained table next to the mattress. "Were you having another nightmare?"

Ukraine peeked up at him through her fingers and nodded. "It started out fine, but in the end it was the same."

The man rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, you did leave your brother's home in a hurry. As your psychologist, I think your body could be compensating from the lack of resolution that you received from the abrupt departure."

"What do you mean, Symon?" Ukraine sat up once more and stretched her arms above her head, vaulting her back a bit to pop her spine.

Symon frowned at her and put a hand up to hide her large breasts from his view as he continued. "A lot of times, when people are separated from someone they were close to during a very violent time, that person becomes lodged in their mind as a constant source of fear." He pointed with his free hand in a matter of fact way. "Your psyche only remembers Russia the way you last knew him; a brutal and political savvy war dog, even though he could have changed and pulled himself out of that way of life."

Ukraine slung her feet over the edge of the mattress. "I didn't know that could happen." She responded, a bit surprised.

Symon sighed and rubbed his temples with his fingers. "I've explained this to you every time you've had a nightmare." He followed her across the room as she moved to the large wardrobe, opening it and withdrawing a long, blue robe and drawing it around her broad shoulders. "If you talked to your brother you could potentially put an end to all of this madness."

Ukraine tied the robe's worn sash tightly around her waist. "But my boss told me not to talk to Russia." She reminded him sadly. "I would if I had a way, but I can't betray my people like that."

Symon paused and scanned the room. "Well…You could always, you know, go through with it in secret." He suggested.

Immediately, Ukraine shook her head in disapproval to the appalling suggestion. "No." She stated as firmly as her calm demeanor would allow. "I can't do that. It wouldn't be right."

"Miss Ukraine, please," Symon begged, throwing his palms before him, "I've known you for my entire career as a psychologist. You've been my only patient for all these years, and your situation could be fixed if you just confront Russia, permission from your boss or not."

Ukraine appeared a bit hurt and shrank back. "So, you're saying you don't want to be my psychologist anymore?" She whimpered.

Symon tried hard to contain his frustration, running a thin palm over his face as he moaned out loud. "It's not that I don't want to, it's that it is my job to make sure you solve this problem. You've been mentally cracked for a while now, and I'm beginning to worry about you more than I have."

Ukraine didn't know what to say. She wrung her fingers nervously as she stared down at her chest. The shiny fabric of the faux silk draped over her breasts shone brightly with the light now pouring steadily through the window. How could she defy her boss? To do such a thing would not only be a dishonor on his name, but to the entire Ukrainian public that she represented. Then again, Symon had a valid point in bringing up her health. During the past few months, the Ukraine had lost all motivation to govern and work alongside her people. Usually, she would spring from her bed in a sprightly fashion, dawn her clothes, and rush out to help the local townspeople harvest the season's crop. She used to take great pride in the amount of physical labor she put forth, singing with the women as they plucked and greeting the men as they arrived to lend a strong and able hand to the effort. But now, her body felt heavy and frail, as though the world was telling her she was no longer fit for such tasks. It bothered her, and the citizens often asked where she was, worried that a large political debate had sprung up that she had to argue. But in reality, she was merely shutting herself off to the world.

Symon leaned forward a bit, concerned with the blank appearance that had flooded Ukraine's facade. "This is ultimately your choice. I can't force you to do something you don't wish to; I can only suggest what I think would be best." He whispered kindheartedly.

Finally Ukraine looked back up at him and nodded. She took a profound, but exceptionally worried breath and brushed past Symon to the cherry nightstand. A white blocky landline sat, dusty from disuse, behind her squat alarm clock. Ukraine reached out, but hung back, her fingertips suspended only a few inches from the phone's back. Her heart rate had escalated to a hurried thump, like a young drummer rapping hard on the top of a large snare. The pounding worked its way up into her already constricted throat, nearly choking her as she willed herself to recollect her nerves. What if Russia refused to talk to her because she left him alone? What if he had a grudge against her and hated her? No. She reached down and scooped up the phone, punching in the number that she had remembered all the years. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

**Tea:** Well I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. I'm sorry...It was a bit slow. I promise that things will pick up after this. Please review if you read, and I hope you enjoyed. Thank you!


End file.
